Talking match lights up the show

Tuesday 7 May 2002 23:00 BST

To say that Mark Maier attempts to cover all bases is an understatement. This stand-up's current show is not a cohesive work, more of a scattershot CV.

You get character comedy in the form of Israeli soldier-turned-London guide Roni Shimoni, monologues by Maier performed by colleagues and a rehearsed reading of a sitcom Maier is developing, entitled Bachelor Boys.

The result has the inevitable whiff of curate's egg about it.

Worst things first. Roni Shimoni is never going to get a vice-like grip on the national psyche in the style of Ali G. Appearing in army greens Shimoni/Maier announces that there is no political comment here. This fence-sitting renders Shimoni potentially pointless. A series of inane slides featuring him shrugging outside various landmarks completes the job.

Things improve dramatically with the cycle of inventive soliloquies delivered from the perspectives of inanimate objects. Paul Rogan's upper-class toffee, marooned inside a Solihull sofa is a certified gem. Joanna Holden in a red hat makes a striking matchstick, looking for a spark of love but destined to be burned. Tom Hillenbrand beautifully captures the existential angst of the odd sock, separated from his sole-mate.

The idea of charging money to watch actors reading scripts is presumptuous, but Bachelor Boys is engaging enough to justify the cheek. In a gender inversion of Sex And The City, Jeremy Swift, Maier, Hillenbrand and Rogan co-star as likely lads on the pull in Newcastle. Andy (Rogan) poses as a doctor to meet women, Chris (Hillenbrand) cannot quite throw the double six required to start the romance game. Dave (Maier) is riddled with insecurities, while Eric (Swift) cannot answer his telephone because his arm is caught in the fridge. Not a showcase to give the cold shoulder to.